


A Series of Smug Indulgences

by DestructivelyConstructive



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: I just have a bad work ethic, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Not Ashamed, Multi, Other, Shut i'm not in denial of certain things, Sorry Not Sorry, shut up i love characters a lot, there's a third part to Angor's, which won't be for a while cause i'm busy, will be updated as i see fit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestructivelyConstructive/pseuds/DestructivelyConstructive
Summary: I love the characters a lot and kinda self ship my self with them. And since I can't be the only one that does that, I've decided to share these even though they're two years old. I think. I made these about a month after Trollhunters aired when I watched it.Just a bunch of indulgent drabbles about self shipping, and I may or may not take requests. Depends on how I'm feeling.





	1. An Interesting Quarry (Angor Rot)

You had no idea what was so important about this weird ring that your father gave you before he disappeared off the face of the earth. And you weren’t really curious enough to research it either. Still you kept it on you, simply because it was your father’s.

However, when ever you would venture out from your home, and into the human world, you would get the inexplicable feeling of being watched. Well more than watched, it almost felt like someone was hunting you.

It was most definitely unnerving to say the least.

This continued for about a month before you decided to bait whoever was watching you, if it was possible. Finding a nice clearing with a clear view of the sky and a cliff, you made yourself comfortable.

With your back securely against the cliff face, you waited. As you waited, you carefully scanned the area, gazing up into the night when you felt it reasonably safe to do so. And looking back from one such break, you finally saw your stalker.

You couldn’t help but to notice that he was tall as he lingered by a tree, his burning eyes locked onto the accessory you twiddled between your fingers, before they rose to meet your cool (E/c) stare. You both took the time to size one another up.

While you were no highly trained warrior, you could tell he was dangerous even from this distance. There was a sort of poised tension in his stance, and you had no doubt that he could wield the staff in his hand quite well. Not to mention, execute what ever other tricks he had up his metaphorical sleeves with tactical flair.

You tried to find more giveaways about his skill, but were unable to glean anything more from this distance. It would also be a folly to try and move to study him closer. He’d just lead you right into a trap, you felt.

Finding nothing else to do except study his looks, which you weren’t quite so intent on, you decided to break the silence with the second thing you had noticed about the dangerous stranger.

“You have very pretty eyes.” you called out to him, leaning back on the cliff as you rolled the trinket over your stony fingers, taking comfort in the soft clinks it made with the motions.

He blinked once. Twice.

Oh, you had surprised him. At least you thought you did. It was hard to tell.

As the silence began to ring once more, you spoke again.

“Is this your ring? Did the old man cheat it off ya somehow?” You inquired, thinking to all the times another troll came into your home to pick fights with him for the very same reason.

He started at your first query.

“Yes, that ring belongs to me.” He spoke in a wonderfully gravelly voice.

No. Don’t go down that line of thinking.

“Would you like it back?” You asked once more, arching a brow as you held up the item in questioned between your thumb and forefinger.

“Yes. Bring it here.” He demanded.

You scoffed. 'Why don’t you come get it? You’re already standing anyway.“

He regarded you for a moment with narrowed eyes, before you heard him sigh gruffly and begin to move.

As soon as he stepped into the moonlight, you realized that you had screwed up in such a monumental way. For it was Angor Rot who was making his way towards you.

As he walked, the moonlight made certain things catch your eye. The gems flashing just beneath his rocky skin, the bands of gold wrapped around his rather geometric horns, the gold rings piecing his chin. The way his pale stone-flesh seemed to glow in this light…

Stop that!

He came to a stop in front of you, and you knew your face was a blank look of shock from the smirk on his face. He held out his hand.

"The Inferna Copula, if you will.” He rumbled.

You peered up at him, looking unimpressed despite everything.

“How do I know you won’t just kill me when you have what you want?” You huffed.

_’(Y/N) stop it. you are toeing a very dangerous line’_ You reminded yourself.

He seemed amused however. “You don’t.”

“Gee that’s reassuring.” You drawled with a roll of your eyes.

“I could always kill you and take it anyway.” He reminded sweetly, still patiently holding out his hand.

When he puts it like that…

Refuse to give him the rin- the Inferna Copula - and be killed for your cowardice, or take a dive and give him the trinket, with a chance to get away unscathed.

In the end it wasn’t that difficult of a choice, and you held out your hand over his, and dropped the ring into his palm.

He grinned wickedly as he took it in his other hand and put it on his finger. He then turned back to you and _patted_ your head.

“That’s a good troll.” He purred.

You swatted his hand away and growled lowly. “Don’t touch me.”

He chuckled and turned on his heel, while you hurriedly got up and began to scamper off.

You stopped. Something felt wrong. You felt your sides and whirled around back to the assassin. As if sensing your incensed stare, he held up the pouch you kept your knick-knacks in. He then turned to grin at you and disappear behind the tree you first saw him standing under.

“Hey!” You called, running after him, somewhat blinded in possessive anger.

You followed him as he danced and vanished in the forested area, distantly aware that you were falling for the same trick you avoided at the beginning of the interaction.

You burst into another clearing, and saw him standing under the shade of a tree. And saw the stasis trap just a bit too late. You tried to backtrack before it took effect, but, you know what they say. Too little, too late.

You were frozen in a backwards leaning position, your face frozen in surprise and remnants of anger. Angor Rot chuckled as he approached the beans, clearly amused by you predicament.

He looked to the ring on his finger then back to you before he began to speak.

“Since I’m my own master now, I do believe I can engage in a bit of sport.” He chuckled, staring pointedly at you.

If you could’ve, you would have widened your (E/C) eyes in fear as you got a tingling sensation tracing along the right side of your face.

Oh crap. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

The sensation stopped, and the magician smirked.

“See you soon, little troll.” He hummed as he dislodged one of the stones and disappeared though a portal. Then you fell onto your back, staring hopelessly at the stars.

Well this was a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into. You turned your head and blinked. At least he was nice enough to leave your knick-knacks behind.

For a widely feared assassin and Trollhunter killer, he was very considerate.

* * *

To say you didn’t leave your home for a long time was an understatement. You called in favors and began training with a few other warriors in your local cavern. It wouldn’t do much, but at least it was something.

Eventually, you began one of the better fighters in the area, and only then did you feel sure enough to leave on what had been your nightly excursions.

Stepping out into the world and taking all of three steps before you heard a gravelly voice say. “And here I was beginning to think you had went and died in the safety of your home like a weak hearted coward.”

Thanks to your new reflexes, you had a dagger in your hand and threw at the other troll in under three seconds.

But being he was who he was, he merely caught the projectile between his fingers. He looked up from his ring and at your dagger, slightly raising his brows.

 "It got closer than I thought it would. I’ll give you that. Just like I’ll give you a ten second head start.“

Spending a second to hit his shadow staff with another dagger, sending it a ways off, you dashed to the southeast, using you considerable speed to cover close to 50 yards before sharply veering North, using any slightly precarious thing to try and make obstacles.

You came to a larger river after 9 seconds, and without hesitation, dove into the dark water, swimming with the current to send you further downstream.

Seeing a shadow above water, you clung to a boulder in pacing. Two orbs of yellow stared down at you and a pale hand breach the surface, fishing you out.

"Really? is that the best you can do?”

You glared.

OK. You knew how to get out of this. hand on his shoulder, grab the other wrist, foot on the hip. You jumped, breaking his hold on you, while simultaneously (hopefully) causing pain and snitching his Shadow staff from him.

You landed on the other side of the river and took off again, Angor Rot’s staff in hand.

Your eyes frantically analyzed the surrounding area. That wouldn’t work. That’s too predictable. He could get in the trees too. Come on, come on, come on was there anyth -!

THERE!

Your eyes zeroed in on the hole in the ground, just large enough for you to squeeze though. You dove for it, just as you heard the sounds of another pair of feet. On your way in, you made sure to all but collapse the entrance. You didn’t glance back as you tunneled deeper, taking a right fork, coming out covered in dirt, and once again breaking into a sprint.

Only to be stopped short by the steep side of a cliff. You groaned and turned around anyway, waiting a few moments for the assassin to reveal himself.

“That was an impressive chase, little troll. Short but eventful.” He commented.

Before you could stop yourself you snapped. “Stop calling me little troll. I am (Y/N).”

He stared at you, his face unreadable before he began to smirk, amused by you for some reason. You merely glared at him in return. You glanced up to the stars above and the cliff over your heads.

If you were going to fall tonight, you wanted to just be a little closer to the stars. You eyed the staff in your hands. No that wouldn’t work.

You looked back to the assassin, only to find him much closer, and oh this is gonna hurt.

His fist hit your abdomen and you were sent tumbling.

You recovered quickly and sprinted along the side of the cliff, climbing as soon as you had cover.

He paused just under you, looking around, as if aware that you weren’t on solid ground any more. He probably did but still.

You carefully grabbed a loose stone and threw it someway away to lead him astray. Against all odds he followed the disturbance, and you continued your climb.

Once you got to the edge to heave yourself up, you were vaguely aware of a lending hand. Grateful for the climb to be over, you foolishly took it and let them help you up so you were on you knees.

You looked up to thank the helper, only for your face to freeze as you locked eyes with Angor Rot.

Really should have seen that one coming.

He flipped you over his shoulder with ease, knocking the wind out of you.

Okay you actually saw that coming.

So as he loomed over you with his staff, looking ridiculously pleased with himself, you huffed.

“Look, if you’re going to kill me, at least let me look at the stars while you do.”

His expression shifted some to stare curiously at you, seeming to assess a strange creature before him.

“And end the hunt so soon?” He asked gruffly, moving from your line of vision.

You sat up to follow him with your narrowed yes. 'What do you mean 'end the hunt so soon?’ The hunt’s already over!“ You hissed.

He feigned a look of surprise. "That? No, no. That is merely the promising beginning of a game of cat and mouse.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. “Angor Rot?”

“Hmm?”

“You are absolutely insane.” You huffed and fell back to look at the stars once more.

You heard him chuckle and move, before you were aware of someone quite close to you.

You turned you head and lo and behold, there was Angor Rot, stargazing with you.

That was an insane idea in on itself. Still, the company was nice. even if said company was a soulless assassin who hunted Trollhunters.

 

* * *

 

The man of the hour turned his head, peeking over the rim of his horn to look at intriguing troll beside him.

Such an interesting quarry.

How long would it be before the hunter caught the hunted completely unaware?

How long until he grew bored? Maybe he wouldn’t. That seemed unlikely at any rate, they were… refreshing


	2. Always Mine (Angor Rot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two to the previous chapter. Written before the release of Season 2, so ignore discrepancies please.

After the strange second encounter with the pale troll, you meandered to your cave and, upon finding the first cleared off flat surface, laid down to think. The notion of engaging in a game of cat and mouse, as he put it, was a daunting prospect to say the least.

You left yourself think about all the ways this could end horribly for a few moments before getting up and heading off to scrounge up what you could find on Angor Rot and the Inferna Copula.

You had a long day of reading ahead of you.

After basically scouring every book you could get you hands on, you had precious little to know about Angor Rot and his ring. Or rather the manifestation of his soul after he had made a Faustian bargain. With whom you didn’t know, as there was no mention of his dealer.

After returning the tomes to their proper places, you rubbed your head with a sigh. Lingering for a few moments more, you decided to work out your body as much as you did you brain.

* * *

The next time you encountered him, you pride was suffering and you were absolutely incensed. You were licking your wounds when he showed up, and you glared at him evilly.

“Leave.” You said simply before turning your attention elsewhere.

You felt his stare on your back, and knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Still, you made a point to ignore him.

He spoke suddenly and you turned your head to him despite yourself.

“Would you like learn how to avenge you defeat?”

“I KNOW how to avenge my defeat!” You snapped with red hot fury. “I just need a competent sparring partner…” You ended with a growl.

You sensed the projectile more than you heard it and you deflected it with a chakram. In the next instant you were locking blades with the pale assassin.

He smirked at you, his burning eyes half lidded with some unidentifiable  emotion. Amusement perhaps? He usually seemed to be amused around you.

“I believe that I should be sufficient for that task.” He remarked.

“Less talking and more sparring.” you retorted as you hooked his knee and sent him tumbling.

He rolled away from the descending edges of your weapons, and smoothly rose to his feet.

“I can do that.” He hummed.

You glared at him, temper flaring.

‘What did I just say?“ You hissed, chucking one chakram at him.

He deflected the weapon back at you and lunged forward. And so began the most intense sparring session you had ever been in.

In fact, it was so intense, that both you _AND_ Angor Rot lost track of the time. Up until you burned your hand in the light of the rising sun attempting to retrieve your weapon of choice.

You snatched your hand back with a hissed curse and looked over the trees. Your curse was a guttural growl this time. Something was shoved in your hand and the magician grabbed your arm.

Shoving the weapon into it’s pouch, you struggled against his grip of steel.

"Where the hell are we going?” You demanded, yanking your arm away finally.

He turned halfway to look at you with raised brows.

“My apologies. I was under the impression that you would be happy to get away from the sun.” He drawled.

Your face went blank, and you nodded slightly.

He held out his arm with that infuriatingly smug, amused smirk of his as he opened a portal.

“Shall we?” He chuckled.

You glared at him for the tone of voice he used, but approached him and took his arm anyway. You could have sworn that he tensed momentarily at the action, even though he had invited it.

“By all means.” You quipped.

“Hold tight.” He advised before stepping into the portal.

Once over the threshold, you tightened your grip on him and looked around, awestruck by the watery shadows you were moving through. The contrasts and the indefinite lighting would be stuck with you for the next few decades at least. You glanced at Agnor Rot for a moment and thought _'if I live that long’._

When you both came to wherever the assassin had taken you to, you were still gripping Angor’s arm in a vice-like grip, still reeling over what you would call the Shadow Realm.

Some time passed before you finally collected yourself and released the uncomfortable troll’s arm. You moved away from him and to the other side of the cave.

Silence hung in the air before you spoke.

“Thank you. For this and the spar.”

Angor merely grunted in return.

After that, the both of you were content to ignore each other until nightfall, where you parted ways for the time being.

* * *

The next time he found you, you were preening over your overwhelming victory. You didn’t know _how_ just one sparring session with him could so drastically improve your skills, but you weren’t complaining. Your pride was repaired and you were happy.

“So the conqueror returns victorious I take it?” Angor Rot queried.

One (E/C) eye opened lazily.

“You’re the one stalking me, but yes. I am victorious.” You retorted.

“Do you have any plans to celebrate?”

“Pffft, no. I’m not that vain. No, I’m just going to take it easy. I would collect a few more knick-knacks, but I’ve been around this block three times.”

“Then in that case, perhaps I could take you somewhere new.” He mentioned in an off hand manner.

You shot up from your position and stared at him with suspicion.

“Why?”

 He was silent as he casually inspected his nails, making a point to not meet you searching gaze.

Finally he gave a weak reply, fashioned to evade your simple question.

“It gets rather boring here, doesn’t it?”

You continued staring at him in a deadpan manner, before sighing and pulling yourself to your feet. You walked over to the magician and took his hand. His head snapped toward you, glowing eyes wide with blatant surprise.

You smirked at him, displaying the amusement he usually emitted. So he wasn’t big on non-aggressive touching. Go figure.

“Let’s go."  You told him.

Angor recovered his composure and nodded, his face contemplative as he opened the swirling blot of darkness that made his portals.

Once again, you were overcome with the strange beauty of the Shadow Realm. Once again you tightened your hold on the assassin.

And once you were though the portal, you turned to Angor with a small smile on your face.

"I’ll never get tired of that.” you commented.

And with that parting note, you began exploring and collecting. And all the while, Angor’s stare followed you with curiosity in his gaze.

* * *

Eventually, a routine was formed, consisting of moving from the woods that were outside your cavern to whatever new location Angor had in mind. Though he never seemed to change it until you showed the slightest amount of disinterest. Once you were at the second location, sparring or game of chase was ensued.

Right now, it was sparring and you wanted to test something. There was a lull of stillness and you sucked on your teeth. How well would this play out? Only one way to find out.

You moved forward first, and the next instant, your blades were locked with his. Angor’s face was that one of concentration, mixed with enjoyment, while you were trying not to grin as you stepped into his personal bubble, making sure to keep your weapons locked together.

His face morphed into one of startled confusion as your face came increasingly close to his. You hovered there for a moment or two and blew at him. His reaction was strikingly similar to that of a cat’s after the same action.

You spun out of his line of vision and put you chakrams away, before brushing a finger up his back. He tensed under your touch, arching his back slightly as if trying to get away from your teasing digit.

When you finger finished it’s route, you swept his legs out from under him and pinned his arms, partially hovering over him. His face was blank as he emitted an air of confusion an and surprise, along with many other strange and hard to classify emotions. You smiled down at him, displaying the amusement he usually felt.

“I think I win” you chided before standing and offering a hand.

Angor sat up and stared at you with a bewildered expression. his stare shifted to your hand, and then back to your smirking face. Something must have sold it to him because he started to reach for your unspoken offer. His hand hovered for a moment before grasping yours.

You hauled him up, your smirk shifting to a smile as he continued to stare at you. You raised your brows at his staring before turning to explore your surroundings more.

As such, you missed him shift his eyes to his hand then back to you once again. The assassin’s hand curled slightly and his usual smile returned as he watched you.

* * *

As your excursions with Angor continued, so did your flirtations.

When the two of you sparred, said flirtations grew bolder and bolder as time passed until your spars were more like exotic dances. And down right provocative ones at that.

When engaging in you cat and mouse games, you would double back and brush teasing touches along his back and arms before bolting to either side of him.

Each time you did anything of that sort to him, Angor would just … stop working for a time.

Something must have shifted because right now, you were engaged in another game of cat and mouse. Only you were terrified out of your mind and fleeing for what could every well be your life. It felt like you were playing with a stalking instead of Angor. Granted they weren’t that different, but you had been comfortable with the latter. And rather fond of him as well.

But enough of that. Where were you? Ah yes, running for dear life.

You were stopped short in that action by a familiar pale stone chest.

Damn this troll and his Shadow Staff.

You jumped back from him, refusing to cower, even if some part of you desperately wanted to.

“Finally got bored, have you?” you snapped at him.

The assassin feigned surprise at your assumption, before he regained his usual demeanor.

“Bored? Oh no. Quite the opposite actually.” he hummed as he started to stalk closer.

In that moment you were struck with the realization of just how cat-like he was. The way his eyes glowed with intent. The refined savage grace of his movements. His obvious surety in just about everything. And finally, the predatory air he was excluding that kept you locked in place despite yourself.

By your ancestors, he was breathtaking.

He started circling you then, and you resolutely kept your gaze locked forward. He came to a stop, in front of you yet again. Then Angor Rot began speaking.

“I was right to believe you would be intriguing prey” He reached his hand out and scrapped his fingers up your throat and under your chin. Shivers ran down your back at the action.

“However, I never thought I would become as attached to you as I did.” You glanced up and saw his face was pensive as he regarded you. Your gaze quickly averted back to his chest before his eyes could catch yours.

His finger traced along your right jaw as he began leaning in.

“But as that would be the case, I’ve come to a conclusion.” He purred, incredibly close to the left side of your face. Just on the edge of your peripheral, you could see the rings in his eyes. You never noticed those thing rings of back before.

“You’ll always be mine, little (Y/N)” He declared, his voice something between a growl and the purr he made just a handful of seconds ago. The right side of your face tingled, and you knew the mark he had made during your first encounter had finally reappeared.

A rumbling chuckle sent vibrations throughout your trembling body. And that’s what caused your weak knees to finally buckle.

He caught you of course, and you grabbed a hold of the sash around his waist with one hand, and grappled a hold of his arm in the other.

You stayed like this for a while before you finally got a hold of yourself and pushed off him, outrage painted on your face.

“Was the terror really necessary!?” You hissed.

Silence rang while you glared at him. He met your gaze evenly, the emotion in his eyes disarmingly soft. Realizing that you weren’t going to get an answer, you threw your arms up in exasperated defeat and walked away.

Laughter rumbled behind you and your knees were weak once more.

Damn that troll and his sinful voice.

* * *

Your excursions continued, as did your sparring and games. Said games usually ended up with someone catching the other and simply saying 'Always mine’. And that someone was usually Angor.

From time to time the two of you would 'knock boots’ as the humans would say.

Not much changed.

* * *

But of course, change came eventually.

It had come in the form of the Inferna Copula being stolen from your magician. You weren’t sure how it happened, but Angor was livid.

He paced like the caged predator he was. He was growling and snarling and cursing the name of the thief. He was the spitting image of an innocent man who had been eternally damned.

You glanced at the small bag you had made for him, and put it back into the larger one you wore. You’d give it to him later.

“Angor?” You finally spoke.

“WHAT.” He snapped, stopping his irate pacing to look at you with blazing eyes.

You took a step back as your hands raised to your chest. One began twisting the ring that Angor had crafted for you from his own living stone.

The crystal glowed in accordance with his mental and physical state. At this moment it was blazing with his wrath, and was hot with the same emotion.

Upon seeing the representation his emotions, and realizing just who he snapped at, the pale assassin tried to reign in his temper.

“What is it (Y/N)?” He rumbled.

“Let’s go find your ring.”

* * *

Of course, things went horribly wrong.

The ring stayed lost, Angor ended up being cast away somewhere in chains and under rubble to rot away, and you had been exiled from your cavern for associating with the notorious killer.

Originally they had wanted to kill you and cast your remains into a molten pit. They tried, but the cost had been too high, and so they exiled you with dishonor.

You raged for days, before settling in a cave and sulking. Your skin crawled with the absence of Angor Rot. It felt strange to be so totally left alone to your own devices.

The ring was still warm, so that was reassuring. He was alive at least.

* * *

You started a new life in a foreign cavern, keeping the satchel you made safe, and keeping your ring close.

One day it surged to life, and you knew he was free once more. You packed your meager possessions and set off to find him.

* * *

Soon after the ring came to life, it’s gem was blazing with a familiar anger, while the stone remained strangely cold.

A horrible feeling settled upon you, and you frantically looked for leads to his whereabouts.

* * *

Once you caught snippets of gossip about a new Trollhunter, and _human_ one at that, you knew where you would have to go.

Heartstone Troll Market. That’s where you would find him hunting his new quarry.

Just as you started collecting your belongings, your ring turned to dull grey stone. That horrible feeling immediately turned to a profound feeling of loss and longing for someone who wasn’t there anymore.

That feeling turned into a possessive rage shortly after.

You weren’t called (Y/N) the Vengeful for nothing.

* * *

One you arrived at Troll Market, you saw the havoc reaped. The remains of crystal golems and trolls alike greeted your eyes.

As you meandered, avoiding the clean up, you came across two human adolescents and a four-armed troll converged around a larger troll with an outstretched hand, turned to stone like so many others.

You approached them, doing your best to look like a lost traveler.

“Excuse me? Could you tell me what happened here?”

As they indulged you, you tried your best not to twist your hand into claws and end the stout one who had assisted with Angor’s demise. Instead you crossed your arms and feigned quiet contemplation.

It wasn’t that difficult, as you were debating whether or not you _should_ end him. Eventually you decided to spare him from your wrath, as you could empathize with his anger towards your lover’s action.

Of course, none of this would have happened if the Trollhunter had simply given Angor’s soul back to him and - !

Getting back on track, you tentatively asked if you could see Angor’s remains. For closure, you clarified, making something up about your father.

They agreed to that, and took you to the Hero’s Forge, and left you alone so you could grieve in peace and so they could continue their own grieving.

You started at the shattered body of the pale assassin uncomprehendingly, before you thought about something he had mentioned in an off-hand manner close to a century and a half ago.

You thanked whatever higher power that Angor had enchanted your bag for more storage.

You gathered up the pieces of him and left before they could connect his remains’ disappearance with you.

They would anyway, but by then, you’ll already be damned.

* * *

A trip to Gatto’s Keep rewarded you with bargaining chips to use in the binding contract you were about to strike up.

You looked sadly at he reconstructed remains of Angor and out to the cave across the lake. You sighed and moved to the raft you made.

Once you reached your destination, you hopped onto shore and started the ritual.

Once a feminine voice rang out, everywhere and nowhere all at once, you began to reach into you bag while you spoke.

“I have come to make a bargain with you.”

“ _ **Of course you have. What have you to trade and for what purpose?**_ ”

You shifted on your feet.

“I’ve come to request that you bring Angor Rot back to the realm of the living, as well as return his soul to him.”

“ _ **Even I have limits to my power**_.”

“ _Please_.” You begged. “I’ve come bearing the Astral Sphere and the Twin Trickster Stones.”

You drew the aforementioned items out of your bag and presented them to her.

There was a pregnant pause, in which you grew more desperate, even if you refused to acknowledge the feeling.

“… _**Very well. I will do this, but I require one more thing**_.” The Lady Pale replied.

“Anything.” You spoke with conviction.

She paused again and you saw her slim hand appear from the darkness. you obligingly deposited the items in her hand and awaited her third request.

“ _ **I’ve lost my hunter. YOU will serve in his place**_.”

You hesitated then, knowing just what she was asking of you.

“ _ **You said 'Anything’, Yes?**_ ”

Your lips pressed into a thin line a you looked toward the ground. Finally you looked up with a determined expression.

“Anything.” You repeated.

The Eldritch Queen chuckled and beckoned you closer. You obliged and came within arm’s reach of her.

A clawed hand was placed on your chest, over where a human’s heart would be located. The place she was touching began to burn, but you were frozen, unable to scream and writhe in pain.

There was a glow of (Color) and you watched your soul turn into an accessory. A chasm formed inside you and you gasped deeply, falling to your hands and knees, the world darkening around the edges from the suddenness of it all.

You looked to your ring and saw the dull color fade away, the gem glowing and the stone warm once again.

Faintly, far off in the distance, you heard a deep voice scream, forming a single word. 'NO’. They sounded so distressed…

“ _ **Go now, my hunter. I will call for you when the time is right.**_ ”

You stumbled to your raft and left, laying down to attempt to get used to the crushing emptiness inside you. Oh, by Deya’s grace, _where was your fiery core?_

Dully you acknowledged you hit land. You were faintly aware of someone hauling you off the wood.

You were vaguely aware of Angor’s golden yellow eyes - oh she had given him another eye, how thoughtful - staring at you, wide with panic. You barely heard him speak, repeating your name and the word 'why’ in varying fashions.

“Always mine, remember?” You slurred, smiling sadly up at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Angst. I can't say much else.


	3. Tiny But Mighty (Draal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will not pretend to know how Troll society woks, cause I have no access to the books and I am only going off the show.  
> But this is a Smug Indulgence so I also don't care.

Draal eyed the excited gaggle of trainee warriors, both from Troll Market, and from other caverns. After all, who wouldn’t want to train in the Hero’s Forge with the Trollhunter? He glanced at said troll, repressing a sigh. It was painful to have one’s father within arm’s reach, yet still have a chasm dividing them.

He turned his eyes back to the line of trolls. Just by glancing at them, he could tell that most of them were inexperienced. He came to a gap in the formation, and glanced down. His dark brows raised slightly at the sight of the petite troll.

However, he was able to garner that they had seen their fair share of battle from the crystalline scars littering their arms, the wary, yet bored (E/C) eyes, and the way they held themselves.

And since they stood out remarkably well amongst the other trolls, he decided they warranted a bit more study.

Their horns lazily looped around their nicked ears, with a secondary pair atop their head that looked remarkably like small antlers. They had nicks highlighting the dimensions of their face, and - oh. They had noticed his staring.

They raised a single brow at him, before looking back to their nails. He felt a flash of embarrassment heat his face, before he looked over the rest of the trolls.

* * *

After introductions, in which he had learned that the petite troll was called (Y/N), there was a simple test.

Get the weight that was chained to the top of a pole, by whatever means necessary, and you won’t be sent back to where ever you had come from. A good number had succeeded, while a good number had failed, and left. All that left was the smallest of the lot.

The antlered troll sauntered in an unhurried manner between Kanjigar and himself, and Draal noted that without their second set of horns, they barely made it up to his chin.

Stop that. Why was he so interested in them?

They came to a stop to stare up the pole at the weight they were meant to retrieve. The ones who had success with the endeavor snickered, under the impression that they would be unable to accomplish the task. (Y/N) turned their head slightly, a long ear angled back at the small crowd.

Their (e/c) gaze dropped to the base of the pole, and they kneeled, taking the latch and sliding it out of place. There was a quiet screech of metal and a colossal thump as the pole hit the ground.

The tiny troll dropped the metal in their hands and trotted - he could not describe it as anything other than trotting - to where the weight lied on the ground. They picked it up and turned around, promptly lobbing it towards him. He slid back a few inches from the sheer force they used, and he blinked.

They… were impressive. His father echoed his thoughts as he offered a bit of praise to them for thinking outside the box, and observing their surroundings.

The corners of their lips turned upwards lightly as they spoke. “Thank you. I appreciate the notice.”

As soon as they finished speaking, their face was impassive once more, and they moved away from the open space to stand amongst their fellow warriors.

* * *

There was sparring after that, and, as Draal thought they would be, (Y/N) was well trained and wiping the floor with the others with almost no effort.

This earned his father’s attentions, who had been sparring with him for the most part, as well as keeping an eye for notable warriors.

Kanjigar called out to the unarmed troll, and requested that they spar with him, to accurately gauge their skill level.

The impassive mask broke as their face went slack with surprise. (E/C) eyes were wide with the emotion, and the firm set of their mouth was slightly open. They regained themselves quickly and nodded.

Himself and the rest moved to the sides to observe, while the talented fighter reached into their bags, for what appeared to be a pair of brass knuckles.

They hit an unseen button on the sides, and they began _expanding_.

More metal came out to crawl up their forearms and cover their fingers. Blades formed along the bit that went halfway up their arms, and their leading knuckles were graced with a pair of dangerously sharp prongs. Their lesser knuckles were reinforced to avoid injury. Overall, their weapons of choice were impressive.

Draal found himself wondering if (Y/N) had made them. He lightly shook his head to banish his thoughts about the little troll.

He instead turned his attention to his father and (Y/N) eager to see how they would fare when faced with the Trollhunter.

Both the Trollhunter and the newcomer were still for a few moment’s before Kanjigar broke the stillness and attacked first. The antlered troll deftly leapt out of the way and appeared behind the armored one. A fierce kick was dealt, which caused his father stumble forward.

He whirled around to try and catch the little one on his blade. Instead they merely leapt over the swing and landed on his arm, punching towards his face. Kanjigar maneuvered his head out of the way, but not without a few superficial scratches from the blades of the gauntlet.

He aimed to return the blow, but was blocked by (Y/N) barring their forearms in front of their face. The force of the Trollhunter’s attack sent them tumbling off their perch, and sliding across the floor of the Forge, only for them to bounce back immediately and hop to their feet.

There was another stand off before his father charged yet again. And after a moment, so did (Y/N).

 Draal leaned forward slightly, eager to see what the petite troll was planning. Something clever, no doubt.

And they did not disappoint, for when Daylight came into swinging range, (Y/N) slid under it, only to jump up and grab a hold of Kanjigar’s horn and pull down, smoothly flipping over his shoulder as he was sent sliding the other direction.

Draal’s eyes widened at the move. Such a risky thing to do, especially with their differing sizes. But it had been executed beautifully. Where and how did they learn to fight like that?

“Impressive” he heard his father comment. “Is that reserved for trolls with a build such as mine?”

“It’s not so much your build, as it is the way your horns are shaped.” They said in a manner-of-fact tone. “They’re perfect for that little leverage trick.”

That was the most the little troll had said an one time. So far at least.

“I’ll keep that in mind” Was the reply.

They danced with their steel for a few more blows, before, finally, (Y/N) was incapacitated by Kanjigar, who had caught the smaller troll in his fist. They struggled, and Draal heard the distinctive sound of the gauntlets shrinking to try and grant them wiggle room. But it proved to be a fruitless effort.

Knowing when they were beat, (Y/N) sighed. “I yield”

Once they were put back on the ground and were straightening themselves up, Draal made a comment.

“That was quite the spectacle. Where did you learn to fight like that?” He hummed, while a few others expressed their desire to know as well, in awe of the little troll’s skills as it would seem.

(E/C) orbs glanced his way and considered his question and if was worth answering.

It was apparently, for (Y/N) replied. “My father is the champion of my home cavern. He wanted me to carry on his legacy, so he thought me everything he knew.”

Draal resisted to glance at his father and thought of the legacy he might carry on someday. So he merely nodded at them.

* * *

After that final spar, that day’s training was over. As everyone filed out, himself included, Draal felt a small hand tap against his stone. He shifted away from the touch and looked down to find the antlered troll, looking at him with an almost unnoticeable smirk..

Then they spoke and he felt embarrassment heat his face.

“You know, if you’re going to stare at me so much, you could at least take me out for a drink.” they said, voice laced with amusement.

He sputtered with false dregs of anger, and they chuckled at him, eyes lighting up with amusement.

“It’s alright. I’ll pay.” They said.

He finally managed to gain control over his mouth and spoke a single question. “Why?”

They looked over at him with a small smile. “You’re curious aren’t you? So you could say that I’m curious about you too.”

He stared at them, and by now they had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the bridge, before offering a smirk in return.

“Alright.” He said simply, and their face broke out in a smile.

(Y/N) grinned at him, and with that, they were making their way out of the Forge once more, with the Trollhunter’s narrowed stare following after them.

* * *

Over the weeks of training and speaking with each other outside of the Forge, Draal found that he quite liked the smaller troll’s company. And they like his enough to invite him to their temporary residence.

He had accepted after some consideration.

So as he entered their cave, the first thing he thought was that it was dark, even for a troll. And the second thing he thought when he found the resident, was that the glowing marks on their stone skin were breathtaking.

They glowed all sorts of colors and covered (Y/N)’s body with beautiful designs, often abstract, and stories about some of the more noteworthy scars that flashed along their stone skin.

But, of course, he was no good with words and merely stared at them, mildly awestruck.

When they finally turned around, the glowing troll laughed in good humor at him.

 "What? You like what you see Draal?“ They teased, the glowing marks accentuating their face slightly distorted with their expression.

And once more, since he was no good with words, he merely replied. "Yes.”

Their face cleared almost instantly and they blinked owlishly at him. Before making a shy comment.

“… Thank you. I came up with these designs myself.”

He stumbled on his words for a moment before managing to say. “They look wonderful on you, (Y/N)”

The other smiled shyly at him, before they both came to their senses and began conversing about what they had meant to. The weapons that (Y/N) designed, and if one might be fitting for Draal.

Eventually it degenerated into drinking whatever the antlered troll had in their cave. After that, they parted ways, only to meet the next day in the Hero’s Forge.

* * *

“Your opponent won’t always face you in perfect lightning. They will attempt to blindside you and use the darkness to their advantage” Kanjigar lamented, setting the tone for that day’s lesson.

“Today, we will train in darkness.” He declared as the light began to wan in the Forge. Draal merely cast a look to the smallest of the troop, who had dropped their head back with a quiet groan.

“This is going to be inconvenient.” They sighed as their glowing markings became more and more apparent as the light dimmed.

But still the training continued, (Y/N) passing with flying colors, even with their disadvantage. And all throughout the session, the blue troll eyed the glowing one with appreciation, both for the art on their body, and the prowess they displayed. And, of course, this did not go unnoticed.

After the session ended, the Trollhunter stopped his son from leaving with the tattooed troll. They paused to look at Draal, whom merely motioned for them to go on ahead.

Draal turned to his father and questioned his father as to why he pulled him aside. To this Kanjigar merely sighed before responding.

“I just want to tell you to be careful about who you give your heart to.” he confessed, and the gem-crusted troll froze, since he had accepted that his father would be … distant, a fair while ago, and to have this coming from seemingly out of nowhere as mildly off-putting.

Still, he managed to reply. “I’ll be sure to do that, father.”

He then turned and left to once again meet up with his friend, and enjoy each other’s company.

* * *

Of course, all good things came to an end. And this came to an end when (Y/N)’s father came to Troll Market to collect his child. Said troll was reluctant to leave, having grown attached to this place, and especially attached to the Trollhunter’s son, who had come to see them off.

Seeing their distress, he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He didn’t speak a word, but it steadied the antlered troll nonetheless. They returned the gesture by resting their small hand on his elbow as they turned to him.

they stayed like the for a moment or two before they both dropped their arms. But the departing troll took it a step further by coming closer to Draal and lowering him to their level.

They pressed their forehead to his in an oddly sentimental gesture, before pulling back to look at his face once more. (Y/N) then gave him a bright smile and pulled something from their bag to give him.

He didn’t look at what they dropped in his hand as they gave him one last smile before turning and boarding the Gyre with their father. He didn’t look at it while they waved at him. He didn’t look at it until he was back in his own cave.

When he did, he was struck with how thoughtful his friend was. The sphere was modeled after the spikes on his back, but had his friend’s colors. _(How did they know he was going to miss them?)_ The natural color of their stone, with bands and patterns of the neon colors that only came alive in the dark. He kept close over the decades.

* * *

He got himself enamored with an Impure with neon green eyes and fuchsia skin. It was a passionate, combustible thing. It had it’s calm moments, of course, but it ultimately ended in flames.

He had found her eyes to be beautiful, like he did the neon patterns so long ago.

* * *

He really hadn’t expected to see them again. Not after so long. But after all was said and done, with Angor Rot vanquished, Aaarrrgh felled, and the human Trollhunter lost in the Dark lands, hell-bent on ending Gunmar, he found their face to be a welcome, if highly unexpected sight.

The clean up of Troll Market was still underway, and he was seated and staring off into the distance. And he couldn’t believe his eyes when he say a tiny troll with lazily looping horns around nicked ears, and antlers a top their head rounding the corner with wide, frightened eyes.

Said (E/C) eyes landed on him and were filled with relief. They trotted over, as he recalled them doing on the first day they met, and rested their hand on the prosthetic, and looked to him with question.

 "It’s a long story (Y/N)…“ He sighed

They smiled at him soothingly, as if to say _‘I’ve got time’_

He looked at them, bemused. "I know you’re the quiet type, but you usually talk to me.”

They leaned their head back and tapped the crystalline scar at the base of their throat, while shaking their heads. They then opened their mouth to show that their tongue was a mere stump.

“Ah I see.”

They tapped at his prosthetic again and tugged at him other arm slightly. He got up from his spot and allowed them to drag him where they saw fit.

He blinked his eyes when the antlered troll lead him to their former residence when they had trained in the Hero’s Forge so long ago. They ushered him into a sit and sat down in front of him, tilting their head back.

In the darkness of their cave, he could see the words etched in blue ink on their stony skin. Blue like… his skin.

It told the story of the battle, and ended with the note _'now I may never speak the affections I hold for one very special troll.’_ His eyes narrowed at the end note.

“And just who are you holding out for?” He growled, something stirring in his chest at the thought of this wonderful little troll holding someone in that high of esteem.

They merely rolled their (E/c) orbs in their sockets and came closer to his face, only to peck a kiss on his lips.

His face heated as they smiled at him, and with them hovering so close to his face still, he pulled them closer and returned their affection, their eyes twinkling with a simple message.

_'You, silly!’_

Draal chuckled against them, taking comfort in their presence with all that has happened. They drew away and traced where his stone melded with the metal of the new limb. He looked at them with furrowed brows, wondering what they were asking. They traced that area again and pointed at the runes etched on their skin, telling the story of how they got that scar.

He nodded with a smile, and they nodded for him to begin the tale. So he did and drew comfort from this wonderful, colorful troll in front of him, soaking in every word so they could transcript it on to his skin later on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draal is one of my favorite characters and I wrote this before I became a Diehard Dromura fan. I hope you guys liked this, cause this is all I have for now.


End file.
